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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26756902">Here</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Howlingdawn/pseuds/Howlingdawn'>Howlingdawn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCIS</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:59:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>677</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26756902</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Howlingdawn/pseuds/Howlingdawn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick joined the Marines straight out of high school - and almost immediately wound up as a POW for three years.</p>
<p>Years later, those memories are brought flooding back.</p>
<p>
  <i>(Whumptober Day One - Waking Up Restrained)</i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ellie Bishop/Nick Torres</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949191</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Here</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, bc I enjoy hurting my faves and my quarantine rewatch of NCIS made me fall head over heels in love with Nick and Ellick, I came up with a little AU a few weeks ago to make him a Marine specifically to make him a POW. This was my first time writing anything with it (and my first time posting anything for Ellick). Hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Hunger clawed at Nick’s stomach, thirst burning his throat. Hands gripped his arms like vises, every bump of his legs dragging across the rough floor sending pain ricocheting through his body. His head lolled, the corridor spinning around him. Screams – his screams – still echoed in his ears.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He only knew they’d stopped because he didn’t have a voice left to scream with.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The door to his cell creaked open, the only warning he had before the guards tossed him inside. He hit the ground in a renewed burst of agony, his bound hands unable to catch him.</em>
</p>
<p>Fight, Marine, <em>some inner voice said, one that sounded like his now-dead commander. </em>Don’t let your brothers down.</p>
<p>
  <em>The last of his squad had been killed months ago. He didn’t have any brothers left.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>But he did have Sofia. At home. Waiting for him. Sofia, Lucia, and his mother.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He couldn’t let them down.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Gritting his teeth, he dragged his arms under him, pushing himself up, ignoring how they trembled from the effort. He didn’t let himself stop, didn’t let himself give in to the pain of just sitting up, not until he was upright. Leaning on the wall and panting, yes, but upright, his chin held high, aiming a defiant glare at the guards enjoying his struggle.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Go,” he rasped, “to hell.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>In the blink of an eye, one guard strode into the cell, lifting his rifle and cracking the butt of it across Nick’s temple.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He caught himself.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>His hands slid on the blood-stained floor, but he dug his fingers in and caught himself.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The guard dropped to a crouch, grabbing Nick’s chin, wrenching his head around to look at him, unleashing a torrent of insults in a rapid-fire stream of Arabic. Nick set his jaw and kept glaring.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>After nearly three years of imprisonment, it took all of his strength to do just that.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The guard finished his rant by spitting in Nick’s face, his flinch covered only by the guard shoving him back to the ground. He caught himself on his elbows this time, barely managing to lift his head before the guards slammed the door shut, leaving him in darkness.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>His arms gave out, the rope chafing against his raw, bloodied wrists as they once again bore his weight for a split second, his head throbbing anew when it hit the wall.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Even in the darkness, the room continued to spin.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Exhausted beyond measure, he let his eyes fall shut.</em>
</p>
<p>Nick bolted awake, wrists jerking against the rope binding him to a column, its corners digging into his shoulders. His temple throbbed where the rifle had hit him, blood crusting on his cheek. He clenched his eyes shut again almost immediately, wishing the world would just stop <em>spinning</em>.</p>
<p>“Nick?”</p>
<p>
  <em>Ellie?</em>
</p>
<p>He forced his eyes back open, squinting through the darkness. Faint light glinted off metal columns, catching the shadows in every crack and dent in the concrete floor, the silver and greys a far cry from the never-ending sea of beige and brown during his years as a prisoner of war. He sucked in a breath for what felt like the first time in forever, remembering in bits and pieces the drug dealer case they were working, and the ambush that had led them here.</p>
<p>Here. In Virginia. With Ellie. Not alone in Afghanistan.</p>
<p>“Ellie,” he rasped, his voice cracking.</p>
<p>Fabric rustled behind the column, the ropes pulling as she shifted, and the brush of her fingers against his felt like a burst of fire in the freezing room. He pressed back, straining for her, and they managed to lock their fingers together, latching on to each other. “Are you ok?” she asked.</p>
<p>He nodded, the world finally steadying around him. “Better,” he answered.</p>
<p>She squeezed his fingers. “I’m here,” she promised quietly. “We’ll get out of this.”</p>
<p>He returned the squeeze, focusing on her touch, on her voice, letting the last of the past fade away.</p>
<p>With his hand in hers, when their captors returned for them, he held his chin high with ease.</p>
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